


This is A Sentinel Thing, isn't It?

by MsGordo_Writings



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Getting Together, M/M, chained together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsGordo_Writings/pseuds/MsGordo_Writings
Summary: Captain Simon Banks stood with his hand clamped firmly over his eyes, chomping down on the cigar he had clenched between his teeth and said in what he hoped was a furious growl but had a sneaking suspicion was more like a plaintive whine, “This is a Sentinel thing, isn’t it?”
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	This is A Sentinel Thing, isn't It?

**Author's Note:**

> This work belongs to MsGordo (https://archiveofourown.org/users/kipplemine/profile) and has been posted with her express permission in order to preserve it from Yahoo Groups. If I have missed any tags or warnings, please feel free to let me know.

Captain Simon Banks stood with his hand clamped firmly over his eyes, chomping down on the cigar he had clenched between his teeth and said in what he hoped was a furious growl but had a sneaking suspicion was more like a plaintive whine, “This is a Sentinel thing, isn’t it?”

Blair Sandburg tried to turn his head from the uncomfortable position he was currently in to see his beloved captain, but was forced to admit defeat when the weight at his back and the teeth sunk into his shoulder prevented the manoeuvre. “Uh, I think so, sir.” He blushed furiously as he heard a couple of *extremely* sharp muttered epithets and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Sorry, sir.”

Detective Jim Ellison adjusted the grip of his teeth slightly on his partner’s shoulder and mumbled happily, “Mmm.”

Simon clenched harder on his cigar, bit straight through it and spluttered through a small shower of tobacco flakes and spittle, “Sandburg, *why* do you live to torture me? What the hell have I ever done to you?” He kept his hand still pressed to his face and muttered, “I’m a good person, I don’t deserve this.”

Blair scowled in annoyance and his head jerked up in reaction to the unfair accusation before he remembered he was somewhat limited in his range of motion at the moment and he gave himself a nasty bump on the temple with the wooden phallus inches above his head. “Ow!” His eyes watered slightly at the sharp sting and he wriggled soothingly as Jim grunted in concern and disapproval at the sudden motion before hissing, “Why is this my fault? You think I *wanted* to finish up my day like this?”

Simon scowled harder behind his vision encompassing hand. “At this point, Sandburg, I have lost the ability to be surprised at *anything* you do.” His mouth twitched in a unwillingly amused grin as he heard the snarl of outrage from his observer and he sighed deeply, “Well, as it would appear none of us are going anywhere for a while and Jim seems to be…”

Blair shifted under the not inconsiderable weight of his partner and mumbled, “Completely fucking *nuts*?”

Simon choked back a laugh and carried on much more diplomatically, “*Indisposed*. Perhaps you’d like to start giving me your report on the events leading up to this, uh, situation.”

Blair pressed his lips together to prevent a veritable torrent of uncharacteristic abuse falling from them that would almost certainly cause irreparable damage to his relationship with Simon and forced himself to take several deep breaths before saying reasonably calmly, “Before I do that, Simon, could you maybe look into getting these chains off us and getting Jim, oh, I don’t know, *the hell away from my ass*?”

This time Simon didn’t bother choking back the laugh, and the high-ceilinged room he and his men were occupying rang with the sounds of his deep belly laughs. “But he looks so *happy*, Sandburg.”

Blair’s head jerked again and another yelp rang out as he smacked into the wooden phallus once more. “Simon, I swear to God, if you don’t…”

“Oh relax,” Simon finally took his hand away from his eyes and -- firmly keeping his gaze fixed on Blair’s head and *nowhere* near his lower body *at all* -- sauntered forwards as he fished out a fresh cigar from his jacket pocket. “Rafe and Brown are on it. They’ve gone down to the janitor’s office to see about getting some bolt cutters or something.” He waved a casual hand as he caught Jim’s eye fix warily on his approach and the Sentinel grumbled warningly without loosening his teeth on his partner’s shoulder. “Hey, Jim.”

Jim’s eye narrowed and he chewed thoughtfully at Blair’s shoulder for a moment -- eliciting another yelp of protest -- before grunting and going back to rubbing his body lightly over the one trapped beneath him and mumbling happily to himself around his mouthful.

Blair scowled as he heard Simon snigger. “Hey, man, this is *not* funny, okay? He’s gonna *freak* when he gets back to normal.” His scowl deepened as he predicted darkly, “And *he’s* gonna think this is all my fault as well.”

Simon studied the, ah, positions of his two men with a still wary eye and replied slowly, “Well, Sandburg, much as it pains me to admit it, this time I think even *Jim* would have a problem pinning this on you.” His eyes flickered to the point on the two mens’ bodies where Jim was making a spirited attempt to pin *something* on Blair despite the two layers of denim and, hopefully, two cotton layers of underwear being in the way. “It’s not like you seem to have much choice there. Are those chains chafing, by the way?”

Blair glowered at Simon as the older man finally stepped into his line of vision and said bitterly, “You are *so* enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Simon grinned around his cigar and his eyes glittered with devilish delight as he took in the sight of his departmental observer bent at the waist, arms chained firmly around the base of an eight foot wooden African virility idol -- complete with not one but *three* outsized wooden dicks -- and his partner, roommate and Sentinel bent over him, likewise chained and currently zoning out of his horny little mind as he attempted to rub a hole through the confining cloth separating ass and dick with nothing more than good old fashioned enthusiasm and optimism. “Sandburg, you have *no* idea.”

Blair glared some more and then closed his eyes with a weary, defeated sigh. “I really, really hate you. Really. So much.”

Simon patted him consolingly on the head, ignoring the disgruntled rumble from Jim at the move and advised warmly, “Detach with love, son, detach with love.” He chuckled as Blair flinched and yelped when Jim’s teeth gripped him a little harder through the t-shirt he was wearing and then asked curiously, “So, seriously, what the hell happened here? You two piss off some really *creative* museum curators, or what?” Simon froze as a sudden thought occurred and he queried warily, “Jim didn’t shoot something priceless did he?”

“No!” Blair’s eyes snapped open. “We do *know* how to behave like civilised human beings on occasion, you know. Our lives don’t *always* have to include guns and bad guys.” Simon’s silent expression spoke volumes and Blair blushed when he muttered sulkily, “Well they *don’t*.” Simon’s silent face spoke louder. “Okay. Fine.” Completely disgusted, Blair grunted as he tried to shift under Jim’s weight and explained irritably, “We were on our way to the station when I got a call from my friend Sue at Rainier. A display of small fetishes had somehow got Fed-Exed across town to St Anne’s High School instead of with the rest of the African phallic art exhibit to Hargrove and she was like having, like, a total *melt-down* man, because they’re *Catholic* over there and the Mother Superior was *way* not happy about her tenth graders getting up close and personal with some hardwood woodies.”

Simon’s lips twitched, but he nodded gravely. “Okay, go on.”

“So I talked Jim into making a quick pit stop and we swung by the high school to grab the dicks and then high-tailed it over here to Rainier to give ‘em to Sue.” Blair blew a strand of hair out of his eyes, stared at Simon’s carefully blank expression suspiciously and continued, “Only it turns out that the fetishes were actually hiding a cache of stolen diamonds in the bottom of the case they were in and the guys that were waiting at the high school were pretty pissed when we showed up to grab them before they could get them away and they followed us over here.”

Simon’s shoulders sagged under the weary burden of yet more Ellison and Sandburg madness being forced on his innocent and undeserving soul. “Of course. Stolen diamonds. What else.”

Blair sighed glumly. “Turns out that one of the guys knew us, you remember that case a couple of months back at the gay bar?” Simon nodded hesitantly, furiously trying to work out *which* particular case with a gay bar that Sandburg meant. For reasons that really didn’t bear examining too closely considering neither of them were actually in Vice or indeed gay, Sandburg and Ellison seemed to attract an awful lot of cases requiring them to go undercover as enthusiastic embracers of the love that dared not speak its name. Blair sighed again. “Well, the guy that recognised us was there the night that we busted the owner for the underage go-go dancers and escorts and he was still kinda pissy about it.”

Simon nodded again, this time more encouragingly. Oh *that* gay bar. He shuddered. The sight of Blair’s hairy little body crammed into a pair of leather shorts and not much else had haunted his dreams for days afterwards. He winced to himself. 

Nightmares, he meant *nightmares*. 

Simon cleared his suddenly dry throat as Blair stared at his lightly sweating face in confusion and Jim sniffed the air and growled ominously around the flesh of Blair’s shoulder. “Go on.”

Looking a little bewildered at Simon’s sudden pained expression, Blair continued, “So he yells to his buddies that we’re cops, they jump us, Jim drops his gun,” Simon nodded, unsurprised. Jim, gunless in the face of the bad-guys-of-the-moment; natch. “And then they shoved us around some, Jim got really pissy,” Simon nodded, still unsurprised. Ellisons’s death wish leanings seemed to increase in direct proportion to just how screwed and unarmed he found himself in any given situation. “And *then*,” Blair’s face screwed up in outrage, “They called me a *pretty-boy* and Jim’s *bitch*, grabbed the diamonds and left us chained here when they made like trees and left!”

Simon paused as he tried to make sense of the latter half of Blair’s final sentence, put it down to the kid being even weirder than usual due to his current uncomfortable situation, and nodded carefully. “I see.”

“And now Jim keeps *biting* me and he won’t stop!” Blair was not too proud to admit he was whining and pouting might soon be on the horizon if something was not done to alleviate his distress. “And, Simon, there’s *rubbing*.”

Simon’s eyes darted to Blair’s hindquarters and then back up to his face. “I see that, Sandburg.” He cleared his throat again and enquired with terrible politeness, “Have you any thoughts as to why?”

Blair’s face heated dramatically and he made a valiant attempt to answer in a cool, detached manner as Jim’s happy mumbling behind him increased in intensity and started to bear a remarkable resemblance to purring as the speed of his rubbing hips increased. “Uh, well, there’s a theory that ancient Sentinels in the field would often use their Guides to…”

The happy rumbling stopped and Jim nipped hard at Blair’s shoulder.

“Ow!” Blair tried to flinch away, yelped again when his chains prevented it and swallowed dryly as he tried again. “Okay, okay! I think Jim’s reacting to an overload of sensory input, primarily the sense of touch…OW!” He wriggled as best he could under the increasingly painful grip of Jim’s teeth and finally muttered resentfully, “He got chained to my ass, kept rubbing his face in my hair, mumbled ‘God, Sandburg, you feel so *good*’ and then started to dry hump me to make me say I wanted him too.”

Simon’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay.” The eyebrows lowered in confusion. “So he wasn’t zoning at the start?”

“Ye…OW! No, okay, no! There was no zoning at the start!” Blair bucked resentfully against Jim’s teeth and crotch and spat, “He, like, totally took advantage of me, man. He knew what he was doing and the son-of-a-bitch was *totally* getting off on the fact that -- thanks to the bastards that chained us here -- I couldn’t get away!”

“Run away, you mean.” Jim raised his head triumphantly from Blair’s shoulder and said in the same mild voice, “That’s what you always do, Chief.”

Simon grinned at the sounds of Blair’s outraged spluttering and nodded cordially at his suspiciously in control looking detective. “Ellison. Nice zone?”

Jim shrugged casually as best he could in his chains. “So-so.” He looked down at the back of Blair’s bristling head. “Can we get a minute here, sir? Then you can cut us loose.” 

Simon waved an accommodating hand. “No problem. I’ll just go and find Rafe and Brown, make sure they haven’t stumbled across an international cartel of kumquat smugglers in the janitors closet or something.” He began to saunter out of the room, ignoring Blair’s calls for him to stop and Jim’s smug grin. “I find it pays to be careful around you two.”

Jim nodded in wry agreement. “Probably wise, sir.” He watched the door close behind Simon and then bumped his groin against Blair’s ass in a companionable way. “How ya’ doin’, Darwin?”

“You. Big. FAKER!” Blair writhed furiously against his bonds – and then hastily stopped when Jim gave an outrageously lewd mocking growl of approval in his ear at the increased friction between their bodies. “I thought you were really…really…”

“Horny?” Jim bumped their bodies together again and stated cheerfully, “Way to observe there, Sandburg. Dead on in fact.”

“When we get loose,” Blair tried to turn his head and glare up at Jim through the tangle of his hair. “I am going to find your gun that you lost *again* and then I am going to shoot you with it. A *lot*.”

Jim grinned helplessly and took a long, pointed sniff of the air. “Well, you’re gonna shoot *something* anyway.”

Blair gritted his teeth and said with heartfelt sincerity, “I *hate* you.”

“Liar.” Jim rolled his hips once more and his grin widened as Blair stifled a hiss of reaction. “Liar, liar, pants on *fire*.” He lowered his head and nuzzled at the wild tangle of hair covering Blair’s disgruntled head. “Come on, Chief, give it up. Game’s over.”

Blair stared sightlessly at the base of the idol that he had been given the opportunity to study with way more attention than it warranted and held out for another few seconds before he whispered, “It’s not a game. I’m not playing here, Jim.”

Jim closed his eyes for a moment and then brushed a light kiss over Blair’s much abused shoulder. “I know, Chief, I’m sorry. Me neither.” He kissed the back of Blair’s head and said nearly sincerely, “I’m sorry I took advantage of you.”

Blair snorted. “You are *not*, you enjoyed every single minute of it.” He closed his eyes and sighed as Jim laughed quietly and kissed his hair again. “It’s just…I don’t want this to end, you know? And I kinda thought that if I let this happen then we’ve got nowhere left to go. It’s like we’d have gone through every relationship evolution we could and then when it was over then we’d just be…finished. The longer I held out the longer I got to keep you, right?”

Jim exhaled shakily and pressed his head hard down between Blair’s shoulders. “Wrong, Blair.” He sighed as his partner tensed up again and pressed his head harder against the cotton of Blair’s shirt. “We’re not gonna stop evolving because we’re sleeping with each other, you jerk. I promise you, we’re always gonna have somewhere left to go, okay?”

Blair swallowed convulsively for a moment before he gave a watery chuckle and pulled lightly at his chains. “I’m assuming you mean that metaphorically?” He grinned as he felt Jim laugh behind him and said slowly, “Maybe you could call Simon and get him to cut these chains now, huh? We could get out of here and talk about what we wanna do?”

“Okay, buddy.” Jim lifted his head and opened his mouth to call for his boss and then paused and looked down at Blair suspiciously. “No more running, right? I get us out of here and I’m not going to have to chase you down and chain you up again to get us back on the same page again am I?”

“Jim, the chances of me being able to run *anywhere* inside the next week are slim to none, okay? I think my spine’s been permanently misaligned.” Blair’s tart reply had Jim wincing before the younger man said more softly, “I promise I won’t run.” He waited a beat and then added mischievously, “And any future chaining will be fully consensual and equally pleasurable to all interested parties.”

“SIMON!” Jim’s enthusiastic bellow echoed around the room and had Blair laughing helplessly as he felt the large body behind him almost vibrate with eager anticipation. “Hey, Simon, you can come let us go now!” Jim cocked his head and listened intently for a moment before going rigid with tension and groaning in outrage. “Oh you have *got* to be kidding me.”

“What?” Blair tensed as he felt the change in Jim’s muscles and tried to screw his head around to see his Sentinel’s face. “What’s the matter?”

Jim sighed and buried his face back in Blair’s hair with a heartfelt moan. “It’s kind of a good news/bad news situation, Chief.”

Blair nodded cautiously. “Okay. What’s the good news?”

Jim sighed again. “The good news is there was no kumquat smuggling cartel.”

“Right.” Blair was filled with a sense of foreboding. “So what’s the bad news?”

Jim listened again and said bitterly, “The bad news is the janitor is really pissed about Rafe and Brown finding his stash of dope plants in the closet and he’s locking them and Simon in there as we speak.” He listened some more. “*Without* the goddamned bolt cutters.”

Blair stared in disbelief at the floor. “Aw, *fuck*.”

Jim looked forlornly at the back of Blair’s head. “Not today, Chief, not today.”


End file.
